


vocal colour

by smallorbits



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Synesthesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 11:15:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7220155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallorbits/pseuds/smallorbits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>synesthesia!au </b> kyungsoo sees colours in voices and notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	vocal colour

**Author's Note:**

> i asked tlist to choose prompts from [tweetfic masterlist](http://paper-scribbles.livejournal.com/45131.html). this was prompt 13/4. ♡

  
Everyone believes Kyungsoo has perfect pitch. To some degree, it's true.  
  
Kyungsoo only needs to listen to a song once to be able to recreate it perfectly and can name even the most muffled of notes.  
  
What he can't quite explain is that instead of relying on his hearing, he sees scales in shades of colours, sees the colours darken or lighten with the rise and fall of the pitch.  
  
Of all the notes, G is his favourite because it's a calming sky blue that reminds him of wide open oceans and floating clouds.  
  
D is an unsettling burgundy, like spilled wine and dried blood. A is a sticky orange, blurred at the edges.  
  
He found out of his strange ability when he went to the orchestra as a child and saw a burst of rainbow in front of his eyes, so vibrant that he started weeping. Startled, his mother dragged him to a series of optometrists, all who hesitantly named it as a form of synesthesia, but none who could explain the science behind it.  
  
From years of experience, Kyungsoo knows that people tend to react to his condition in an almost negative manner, treating him as a curious case to be studied. He keeps it to himself now.  
  
  
  
  
  
Once upon a time, Kyungsoo dreamed of becoming a singer. There was something magical in imagining himself on stage, sharing his voice and soul with a sea of audience. It was when he was 15 that he started seeing colours in not just music, but voices too and suddenly it was too much, too bright. A large screaming crowd would mean an assault of colours and Kyungsoo wasn't sure if he could mentally handle that sensory overload.  
  
He became a song producer instead.  
  
Kyungsoo works with a fairly famous agency and helps to record vocal guides, tries his hand at sound mixing, and oversees general production.  
  
Music is his solace; colours are his secret.  
  
It’s not ideal but it works.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
He sees Baekhyun before he hears Baekhyun.  
  
He's heard of Baekhyun, of course. How could he not when the entire company has been whispering about the mysterious trainee who was picked from the streets and ready for a solo debut within four months of training? Jongdae the vocal coach has been gushing about Baekhyun for weeks and the debut is big enough that they invited the hottest song writing duo in Korea to write Baekhyun's debut song.  
  
  
(Don't mess up, Kyungsoo is told by the CEO, his words dripping with a neon red.  
  
Kyungsoo fights the urge to close his eyes and nods.)  
  
  
When he gets to the studio that day, he's alarmed to see bright bright bright electric pink leaking out from underneath the door as little zig zagging shocks. The room is sound proof so he really shouldn't be hearing, much less seeing, any sounds and it's odd enough that Kyungsoo quickens his footsteps to push the door open.  
  
The man in the room doesn't even notice and keeps on spinning on his chair, belting out one of the newest girl group hits that Kyungsoo produced months ago. Even while his entire body spins, his voice remains steady and the colours that bounce around him are bright and preppy. Finally thoroughly dizzy, he jams the chair to a stop and props his filthy feet up on the precious soundboard.  
  
Kyungsoo screams.  
  
The man falls off his chair in shock but quickly recovers. He wipes his hand on his thigh and sticks it out cheerfully. "You must be Kyungsoo! Hi, I'm Baekhyun!"  
  
And Kyungsoo finds himself staring star struck at Baekhyun, drinking in his wide smile, curved eyes and the way he seems to radiate a pink glow.  
  
  
  
  
  
Pink is not a colour he sees often in voices. His mother was a warm apricot that sometimes bled into a lighter shade of pink when she sang her bedtime lullabies for him, and very rarely when his old vocal teacher liked the way he shaped a note, his praises were tinged with the softest of pinks.  
  
Kyungsoo has learned to associate pink with happiness and warmth.  
  
Baekhyun's pink though, grates on Kyungsoo's nerves for some reason.  
  
Working with Baekhyun is a challenge for someone as quiet as Kyungsoo. Sure, he has to admit that Baekhyun is one talented kid. He has amazing control of his voice and the kind of rare, unpolished sound that makes Kyungsoo immediately understand why the sm reps were so eager to push him out without training. Voices like this are meant to be listened to raw and with minimal tweaks.  
  
Baekhyun in the recording room is a joy to work with because he takes directions well and even dares to voice out his opinions on what would sound better, more often than not, hitting it on the nail.  
  
The problem is when Baekhyun leaves the small enclosed space and joins the studio with Kyungsoo. He's so _loud_ , loud enough to drown out the noise Jongdae makes, loud enough that when Kyungsoo opens his eyes, all he sees is a cloud of pink.  
  
“You give me a headache,” Kyungsoo growls at Baekhyun when Baekhyun is particularly obnoxious one day, bouncing around the room and singing random snippets of songs. Kyungsoo’s vision has been flashing pink all day.  
  
Baekhyun takes it upon himself to burrow his way under Kyungsoo’s arm and peeks up at him with those crescent eyes. “But you love it.”  
  
Kyungsoo is so taken back, he can’t even refute it.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The strangest part is how even Baekhyun’s text messages seem to glow pink. Ever since they exchanged numbers, Kyungsoo’s phone has been pinging at random times of the day with a good morning text or a picture of a puppy Baekhyun saw on the streets.  
  
Sometimes he sends a selfie of himself and Kyungsoo makes sure to save all those down to use as pre-debut blackmail material when Baekhyun makes it big one day.  
  
**Baekhyun:**  
_Kyungsoo ah_  
  
**Baekhyun:**  
_Kyungsoo ahhhhhh_  
  
**Kyungsoo:**  
_What._  
  
**Baekhyun:**  
_Sleep well 'ㅅ'_  
  
Perhaps it’s a new form of synesthesia that he developed recently, but he doesn’t give it too much thought.  
  
Kyungsoo sleeps well that night.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Kyungsoo becomes obsessed with Baekhyun’s song. He’s always been a perfectionist but the degree at which he tires over the song is something that attracts even Jongdae’s attention.  
  
Baekhyun’s voice has a certain quality to it that Kyungsoo can’t stop listening to. He brings the demo recording of Baekhyun’s voice with him wherever he goes, turning it on the minute he has a moment of silence.  
  
It gets to the point where every time he closes his eyes, he sees Baekhyun’s face, wrapped in a blanket of peachy pink. Pink becomes the colour palette of his life, the other colours only a muted secondary shade.  
  
Baekhyun for the most part is happy to go along with Kyungsoo’s strict instructions, spending night after night together with Kyungsoo to record that one perfect take.  
  
Sometimes he ends up falling asleep next to Kyungsoo and Kyungsoo notices he makes tiny yips in his sleep, little pink tendrils that fade into the airs.  
  
(Secretly, he records that too and saves it deep in his hard drive, too ashamed to ever listen to it again.)  
  
  
  
  
  
“Another take!” Kyungsoo says for the umpteenth and Baekhyun’s shoulders slump, though to his credit, he nods with a determined look in his eyes and puts the headphones on back again.  
  
“At this point, we’ll never stop recording,” Jongdae says grumpily. He side eyes Kyungsoo. “Are you sure you’re not dragging it out so you can spend more time with Baekhyun?”  
  
Kyungsoo chooses to ignore Jongdae but he decides to call for a break. It’s already 2am and Baekhyun’s smiles are a little wilted. His voice is starting to be tinged a darker rogue among the electric pinks, and it concerns Kyungsoo enough that he presses a flask of warm honey into Baekhyun’s hands. “Take care of your throat.”  
  
Baekhyun accepts it and throws his arms around Kyungsoo, almost throwing them off balance.  
  
“You’re so mean,” he whimpers, right into Kyungsoo shoulder and Kyungsoo can feel alarm rising up in his throat.  
  
It’s all over a moment too soon when Jongdae pries Baekhyun away. “Now, now, lover boy. Kyungsoo here is allergic to human contact. Talk softly, avoid touch and no sudden movements.  
  
“Ha ha,” Kyungsoo deadpans. “We still have a few lines to go. If you can joke, you can get back to recording.”  
  
“Meanie,” Baekhyun pouts, and tugs at Kyungsoo’s sleeve.  
  
Kyungsoo makes Baekhyun do four takes without rest as revenge.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The day Baekhyun’s single drops can’t come soon enough. Kyungsoo shuts himself in his studio and watches Baekhyun’s song rise to number one on the real time charts.  
  
He usually doesn’t track the songs he produces but Baekhyun is special- Baekhyun is a special case in SM Entertainment. A lot is riding on Baekhyun’s debut and Kyungsoo’s own raise is on the line.  
  
He was sure he locked the door so the turning of the doorknob startles him.  
  
"Are you avoiding me?" Baekhyun peeks in, hair down and fluffy like an overgrown puppy.  
  
"Yes," Kyungsoo says dryly. He wants to congratulate Baekhyun and let him know his song has charted on every single music playing service, but Baekhyun beams at him and the words are stuck in his throat. “I locked the door. How did you get in?”  
  
“Picked it,” Baekhyun shrugs and Kyungsoo opens his mouth to start scolding him but Baekhyun cuts him off. "I have a gift for you."  
  
“I wanted to thank you. For everything.” He shuffles in and for a moment, almost comes off as shy, which confuses Kyungsoo until he notices that Baekhyun is holding a small pot of flowers. Of course, they're _pink_ and Kyungsoo is suddenly, inexplicitly furious.  
  
In a split second, he puts the pot of flowers on the table and advances on Baekhyun until they’re a breath apart, Baekhyun’s furrow of his eyebrows infuriating him even more. "I was comfortable here and then you come in-" Kyungsoo stabs a finger into Baekhyun's chest. "with your god damned explosion of pink and taint my entire world."  
  
The uncertainty fades quickly and Baekhyun seems delighted. "Are you saying you think of me a lot?"  
  
"How can I not," Kyungsoo spits, seeing red now. "You're everywhere."  
  
"Did you know," Baekhyun says, grabbing Kyungsoo and suddenly spinning him around so that Kyungsoo is the one being cornered. "that pink is the colour of love?" He’s still smiling, but now it seems a bit feral, and the zig zags of pink around him are vibrating intensely, dazzling Kyungsoo into silence.  
  
Another step and Baekhyun has Kyungsoo pressed against the counter, back digging into the soundboard. He waves a hand at the pot of flowers. "These are gloxinias. Do you know what this flower means?"  
  
_Pink is the colour of love_ , Kyungsoo thinks in a daze and remembers the soft way his mother carressed his hair, and the desperate need to impress his vocal teacher, right around the time when Kyungsoo was realising that maybe he was more attracted to wide shoulders and rough hands than slim wrists and curved hips.  
  
"Pink gloxinias. It's love at first sight, silly," Baekhyun says brightly.  
  
Suddenly, it’s all so blindingly obvious that Kyungsoo wants to stab himself. But first, he's going to angrily kiss his feelings out on Baekhyun.  
  
Kyungsoo will be seeing pink for a very long time.  
  


_end._  
  
---


End file.
